


Eventually

by LonelyThursday



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Current Events, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyThursday/pseuds/LonelyThursday
Summary: Life is stressing Albert outRace is a good boyfriend
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, implied Spot Conlon/Elmer (Newsies)
Kudos: 34





	Eventually

_‘The nice thing about Zoom classes,’_ Albert thinks as he switches his computer camera off and yanks his earbuds out, _‘is that you don’t have to worry someone will notice when you have a panic attack during class.’_

In the short term, he would blame his mid-morning panic attack on how his professor’s voice sounded directly in his ear - too loud and too quiet all at the same time. But really, it’s definitely a mixture of the stressful state of the world right now, and the fact that he hasn’t taken his meds in a couple days. And the only reason he hasn’t taken his meds, is because just the _thought_ of going to the pharmacy - the thought of leaving his apartment at all really - is stressful enough to keep him from getting his refill. 

It’s all just one big positive feedback loop of anxiety that just so happened to have come to a head during his Zoom class. 

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t _do_ online classes during _normal_ circumstances, but _now,_ not only does he have to be diligent enough to open his computer every day, but he has to deal with professors trying to teach classes that aren’t _supposed_ to be online, online. Professors who _barely_ know how to use the internet, let alone how to format their classes to work over it.

It’s shit. 

Everything’s shit. 

For the first couple weeks, the introvert in him was ecstatic to stay home and not have to be around people all the time, but now…

He’s anxious. 

Really, _really_ anxious. 

There’s still an hour left in class, but Albert can’t deal with it anymore. He pulls his earbuds out of the computer so his professor’s voice plays over the laptop speakers instead, and crawls under the bed, hoping the darkness of the enclosed space will alleviate even a _little_ of the anxiety he’s feeling right now. 

It helps. A little bit. Cutting out one sense definitely helps cut down the sensory overload that sent him spiraling in the first place. That, and the fact that he’s literally lying on the ground helps him ground. 

It’s a good thing Race decided to use this time to clean the apartment. He took everything out from under their bed and moved it to the living room to sort through before he puts it back, leaving plenty of room for Albert. 

The rest of the hour passes in a blur that’s simultaneously too slow and too fast for Albert to really keep track of. But he does clearly hear his professor say “see you next week” before kicking everyone out of the meeting, and his room goes blissfully silent. 

Or as silent as it can be with Race in the living room, Spot in his room, and Elmer in the kitchen. 

Still, silent enough that Albert falls asleep. 

He’s awakened sometime later by the door to the bedroom opening and someone stepping inside. He has just enough time to orient himself to his current position before his boyfriend crouches next to the bed to see him underneath. 

“You’re out of your meds,” Race says after a brief staring contest where neither of them want to address the current situation - the situation being, Albert’s anxiety must have been pretty bad for him to hide under the bed with all the dust bunnies and stray toenail clippings. 

Albert nods, suddenly extremely tired, even though he was _just_ napping. 

“How long?” Albert just shrugs, days blur together, but it’s definitely been more than two. “Well I’m almost out of my ADHD meds, so how ‘bout I pick up both of ours when I go to the pharmacy, sound good?”

Albert nods again and Race smiles in return. 

“Want to come out now?” Albert shakes his head. “What if I turn the lights off?”

After a moment of consideration, Albert shrugs. Race smiles as if he’d gotten a solid ‘yes’ and stands. There’s a faint ‘click’ that’s probably Race shutting Albert’s laptop, then Race’s feet retreat back towards the door, followed by a different ‘click’, and the room’s lights turning off. 

Albert takes a deep breath, and climbs out from under the bed. 

The room isn’t _totally_ dark - there’s some stray light coming in through the blinds, and from under the door - but it’s enough to not grate at Albert’s already sensitive nerves. 

Even after he’s out from under the bed, he makes no move to get off the floor, he’s not ready for that yet. Instead, he just sits up with his back against the side of the bed, and his legs splayed out in front of him. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Race asks. Gently, so as to inform Albert that it’s his choice, and Race’s feelings won’t be hurt either way. 

Albert nods. 

“‘Kay. I’ll bring you lunch later, ok? You need to eat.” Albert nods again, and Race nods back before opening the door as little as possible and slipping out. He closes the door behind him, leaving Albert bathed in soothing darkness. 

Even though it’s not even noon, he’s exhausted. Physically. Mentally. There’s just no energy left in his body. 

His head tips back, resting on the bed and leaving Albert staring at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars he and Race put up when they first moved in glow in the dim room. 

He focuses on the stars, tracing made-up constellations with his eyes. 

He’s going to be ok. This will end eventually, and he’ll be ok. 

Everything is going to be ok. 

Eventually. 

**Author's Note:**

> what? me? projecting onto albert? i would never. i have no idea what youre talking about
> 
> I know times are stressful, but I promise, this is not the collapse of society. Society has surved before, when technology and medicine was worse, and it'll survive now.  
> (also if both trump and pence both die then Nancy Pelosi will be president, theres not a lot of chance of that, but its enough for me)


End file.
